- An oversized trireme type vessel that is seemingly coloured black.
- A heavy set, blocky vessel with pleated white sails
- A more traditional medium boat with a golden figurehead of some sort and red sails

Granite shuts his eyes and reaches deeper into the magic... the feel of it is harsh and metallic to him, and he realises it is old beyond measure, yet also... somehow afraid? He plunges into it deeper, looking for the answers he seeks and begins to feel it's history seeping into his mind even as it reaches back to claim his magic... It was... made... eons ago.... a tool? a weapon? Unclear. It had a task to help stop threats it's creator... The threats... it doesn't recall exactly... but huge and primordial in power. Yet, it was but nothing... one of a thousand such projects designed to protect it's masters, but it too failed as they had done...

Had become established in a small corner of the deep trenches.... no magic to feed on but would survive there. Stayed there for millenia. Something... big had knocked it loose though. Dislodged. Starving and adrift. Washed to the shore. Weak, it clung to the harbour. Perhaps safe here from what had dislodged it? No power left, was just an obstruction to the little boats. Dying. Then the magician came. It could feel him coming... and with him, his staff. Stored power in that. When the magician touched the staff to the weed to banish it, the weed could feed again, and then had the strength to feed physically.... took the staff into itself... would be a heart to provide it with life. People around it. Had sought to destroy it. Threat. Food. Took them all.

Granite opened his eyes and realise he had been walking in this vision... a few steps more down the beach.... weed waves like tendrils of an anemone towards him... searching for the magic. Searching for the blood. He shifts his weight backwards, away from the sea and the tendrils that would consume him. The sand crunches underfood in a way that sounds wrong. The surface on the strand here is not sand but tiny splinters of white bone, a whole strata of it surrounding the entire cove. The foam of the water is very slightly pink...

But this close, he can see another thing.... a few foot out, and underneath the weed, he can make out a blue-white glow coming from the water.... the staff is there. The heart of the monster. Mere feet from him, and he knows with certainty that removing it would remove the threat....

The two Mustott avoid the smokehouse for now - no point in alerting McCreedy to their presence, and have a rummage through a nearby warehouse. It's been largely ransacked, but they manage to find a large and very mature wheel of cheese, a couple of sea-cow pelts, a cupboard containing a number of predator traps (bear traps and wolf snares) and a large locked iron chest with several huge padlocks on it. There are scratches on the joints that suggest someone tried to break in already with some metal impletement, but failed, so whatever was in here is presumably both valuable and still left over.